Picture Perfect
by MirrorSlash
Summary: Nice little take on my latest favourite chryed scene - think you'll recognise this one! : Hope you enjoy!


**Hello! **

**Back from my hiatus from FanFic! Missed you guys! **

**Wanted to write something else - something requested - but this popped into my head and I had to put it down. **

**I apologise - ish. I hope you still enjoy this one! And I'll write the other one later! **

**My favourite (one of) chryed scene now, even though Sye isn't in it really. **

**Enjoy !**

**NO COPYRIGHT INTENDED. CHARACTERS BELONG TO BBC AND EASTENDERS. **

**also, I'm very tired, and so on, so just ignore any mistakes yeah? :P **

**MirrorSlash xxxxxxxxxx **

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**Picture Perfect **

It was fragile. So fragile. Everything was balancing on a thread; happiness, stability...and a crucial part of my life.

I heard the words leaving my mouth and entering judgemental, condemning ears. What was the point? What was ever the point? My mind was screaming at me to stop talking; telling me that it wasn't going to change anything, that I would make things worse as I had done many times before.

'_And Sye...' _

She looked up in shock then, but I had said his name and couldn't stop there. I looked at the woman in front of me – she looked so vulnerable, so lost. I thought about what she had said earlier...

'_I know that God sets us tests, and we either pass or we fail.' _

'_And why would He do that? I mean, what would be the point?' _I had asked her.

I've never had anything against religion. I've never really closely looked at it – but I do see the people behind them. People can either let it dictate their lives, restrict their freedom, twist the words. Or, they can use the same religion to be liberal, loving, forgiving.

Surely...surely even Zainab could do that? I thought about the amount of times I'd told Syed that that she wasn't worth it, that his parents would never change...but that was a while back. That was when I didn't care; when it was me and Sye against the world. Back then I'd told myself that the only person I could lower my defences around was Syed. I didn't even do it consciously – he broke down all the walls I'd built around myself with a touch, one look, a single word...

I had told myself I didn't care much about being accepted by anybody but by him. But all that had changed. He had a daughter now, Yasmin. I couldn't help feeling so proud of him every time I saw them together, but it broke my heart to know that she was yet another part of his life I couldn't be part of. It tortured me to see him so happy – selfish I know – without me.

And I had seen the looks his family gave me. I knew only too well how they all felt; that Yasmin would never be mine and that I had no right to hold her, protect her, love her, no right to even see her...

Or even do my best to be her uncle.

I know I'm not accepted here. But maybe I should try – for Syed. How can I be accepted by him if I can't accept myself, his family, his own daughter? So that's why I find myself talking. That's why what I've wanted to say for years – what I have _tried _to say – comes rushing out of me now, gushing like a heated waterfall.

'_And Sye...did he choose to be Sye? Did I choose to fall in love with him?' _

It hurts. It hurts to say this, but I hold Zainab's gaze. I have to make her _see_. See that I'm not a bad person. That I might not be perfect, but that I'd never hurt her son intentionally, never hurt her intentionally, never hurt her gorgeous granddaughter...

'_No.' _I shake my head. _'It just happened. Sometimes life just...just happens.'_ She doesn't say anything. I've blown it, I really have. Any moment now, Syed is going to come back through the door to find his mother and I in another heated argument. I've never been good at knowing when to shut my big mouth.

'_And do you...?'_

The frail voice is so unexpected that my head shoots up, my ears struggling to hear, my mind struggling to process what I've just heard.

'_Do I what?' _

Not the most eloquent response but my mind is scrambled. I've laid out everything...my beliefs, my sympathy, my feelings, out in the open for Zainab Masood of all people. I'm naked, defenceless. Unbelievably, she's the one in control here.

'_Do you love my son?'_

Again I feel it. That sharp shooting pain deep in my gut. How can people be so ignorant? How can she not know? How can she not know that I love Syed more than I love life itself? That the thought of being torn away from him now that he's found a new family – maybe even where he belongs - keeps me up at nights? That I can't imagine my life without her son?

_'Zainab how can you even ask me that, eh? The amount of times you must've heard me say it...' _

But of course. Love. That's not something I can feel for him, right? That's not a word someone like me can even begin to understand...? I bite back the scathing remarks.

There was a time when I would have been angrier. Shocked. Maybe even hurt that she questioned my honesty. Now? My voice comes out lifeless and breathy. It hurts, yes. But it's no longer a stabbing pain, more of a dull ache.

I look down to my mug of tea, my thumb nervously circling the rim. I feel like I should say something but the moment is gone and for once I listen to the frantic screaming in my head telling me to shut up.

'_Well I'm sorry...but I don't think that I was listening before.'_

It takes a while before what she has said registers in my brain, because what is being suggested is so alien that my brain struggles to recognise it. _Like hell you were listening! _I think. _Like hell you - wait._ I realise what it must be. It's...it's an apology. Zainab style.

Then I look up at her and I know there's no point anymore. The tears fall freely. Looking into her eyes I know she means it...she is sorry. She's forgiven me. For a split second I wonder if there is even any point. There's so much water under this old bridge, and the entire thing is so delicate, so fragile that one wrong word, look, or a sudden gust of wind will knock me over the edge and I'll drown. I'd have lost again. Once more I'd have extended kindness only to have it thrown back in my face.

But maybe we can work together. Maybe we can rebuild our bridges so that it supports us both and that neither one of us falls? Maybe it doesn't have to be me and Syed against the world anymore. And I was never perfect. I did so many things that hurt their family; I've acted rashly, stupidly, and even spitefully at times.

'_Well maybe we do have a choice...' _My voice is shaking. '_Maybe we can choose not to hurt each other.' _

She nods gratefully. I don't know what to do. I've imagined this moment so many times in my head; like a conversation you play over and over, determining exactly what you're going to say and _when _exactly you're going to say it...but it never happens. And this was like that. I never believed it could happen, so now that it has...

In the end it's her who reaches out and grabs my hand. I'm completely overrun with emotions. I've kept all my emotions, all my _craving _for acceptance hidden. I've always hidden it with defiance, anger, fake happiness...and most of all by extending a helping hand to others. People always comment on how willing I am to help others. I've always been that funny guy, the gay best friend, fun Uncle Christian. Nobody has ever realised that to solve problems you've got to have worse ones yourself. That supporting others makes them reliant on me, which makes me feel better about myself. Hell, it makes me feel as if people _need _me, and as much as I hate to admit it, I _need_ that acceptance, that love, the feeling of being wanted..

Still, nobody ever notices how helping others means you never have time for yourself.

I wish that I could say that the moment is exhilarating, but it's not. The sudden wash of emotions and the near impossibility of the whole thing is overwhelming, and if I hadn't been sitting down I would have toppled over.

I need something, anything, to stop me thinking, to stop me feeling...

The door slams. I can hear Sye talking but I can't tear my eyes off Zainab. He stops talking and he's standing behind me, staring at us in shock. We all stay still in perfect silence. The perfect picture.

_'Everything alright in here?' _

Zainab says something about going to make some food. I don't hear her because I'm still too overwhelmed. Her hand rests gently on my shoulder as she walks past me. Syed looks at me in shock, and I look up at him, smiling and shaking my head in disbelief. I realise I've been holding my breath and expel it, my body collapsing in shivers, weak with relief.

'_Wha...?' _he mouths.

I just nod and reach out, gripping his hand tightly. It's enough. His face lights up. He's just like me in a way; there's still that little schoolchild inside of him that wants his mother's approval. There are so many questions on that gorgeous mouth of his, but I shake my head and lean back against the headrest, closing my eyes. I don't know how to retell what has just happened. I'm not even sure myself. Everything is so strange, so new. It's all pieces. Fragments of our past. We're not a conventional family; gay men, Muslim parents, divorced mother, innocent children in the midst...But we're beginning to look past our differences. I'm happy, but scared I'll mess it all up. Scared that I'll say the wrong thing and be hated all over again.

Sye pesters me later as we sit on the sofa.

_'...And we worked out a few things.' _

_'Like what?' _he asks me. He's giving me that look. It's so funny and adorable. Besides, he's too happy to be truly pissed at me.

I chuckle. '_Ask your mum.' _I say, leaning in for a slow kiss.

There's a vehement _a-hem. _Only Amira could carry such contempt and complete distaste in a single, lady-like cough. She ruins the perfect moment.

I bite my lip and try to hide my dislike.

So, so fragile.

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**As I said, my new favourite scene, so comments appreciated! :) **

**MirrorSlash xxxxxxxxxxxxx**


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